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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658766">golden hour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschvanitas/pseuds/kitschvanitas'>kitschvanitas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Zuko, GoFundMe to buy Zuko one (1) single scrap of self esteem, Librarian Sokka, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Sokka is good with kids and i will die on this hill, i just think they're neat!, it's a modernized version of the canon universe, it's about having a crush but also rediscovering the joy of creating, mostly it's shamelessly self indulgent fluff if i'm being honest tho, super brief moments of angst?, there's also a lot more turtleducks than really makes sense for the given prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:47:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschvanitas/pseuds/kitschvanitas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko just stopped into the library to pick up a book for his uncle. </p><p>Naturally, he ends up leaving with four books and a crush on the children's librarian.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh &amp; Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Zukka 18+ Chaos Server: Jan 2021 Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>golden hour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSHfic/gifts">CSHfic</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so one of the prompts was "bring your fandom to work day" and because i miss getting to actually like, see and interact with kids at my job (curbside only RIP), i decided to make a fun little library au! </p><p>also, surviving the library slime apocalypse of 2019 was wild, and i wanted a place to reference it. </p><p>hope you like it! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mostly, Zuko thinks of himself as a pretty good nephew, all things considered. 

</p><p>Sure, maybe he doesn't do face to face visits as often as he probably should, especially since they're finally living in the same city again, but Uncle Iroh understands that he's very busy with work. Besides, he always calls. 

</p><p>... he usually calls, all right? 

</p><p>Zuko is still at his desk, a full two hours past what should have been his lunch break, when his phone rings. He glances over at the screen to check the caller ID, and his brow furrows.

</p><p><i>Ms. Wu (Uncle’s Neighbor)</i>

</p><p>Why would his uncle’s neighbor be calling him?

</p><p>Then he jolts upright in his chair, flailing to actually grab the phone, because <i>why would his uncle's neighbor be calling him?</i>

</p><p>His heart is trying to break out of his ribcage and run screaming around the room, and his brain must not be far behind, because it takes him far too many tries to actually swipe and accept the call.

</p><p>“Hello?” he barely manages to say. Even those two syllables have to be dragged out of his mouth, as if the delay will somehow undo whatever terrible news is coming from his uncle's neighbor. 

</p><p>“Hello, nephew!” His uncle's voice is cheerful, but a little too loud and floaty, the way it gets when he's had one too many glasses of plum wine at his Pai Sho games. It isn't Thursday, is it? Zuko glances over at the fancy calendar he got for his cubicle, only to find that he hasn't actually updated it in at least a month. He's pretty sure it's not Thursday. And it's only two in the afternoon, far too early for Uncle Iroh to be tipsy, even if it were Thursday. 

</p><p>“Uncle, are you okay?”

</p><p>“I'm wonderful, I'm having a wonderful day. My white dragon bushes are coming in beautifully, did you get the pictures I sent?”

</p><p>“What pictures?”

</p><p>There's a pause, and Zuko can hear indistinct voices and other odd sounds echoing down the line. “Ohhhhh. I suppose I must have fallen before I sent them. That's a shame, they really are so beautiful, I was worried after we had such a dry summer, you know, they like their rain--”

</p><p>Panic starts shrieking and squirming inside Zuko's chest again, and he presses his free hand there, like he's trying to calm a startled animal. “You fell?”

</p><p>“I had a slight disagreement with a gopher hole. And gravity, I suppose. But really, I'm fine, nephew, you shouldn't worry, the doctors already let me go--”

</p><p>“Are you at the <i>hospital</i>?”

</p><p>Uncle Iroh lets out an amused snort. “Only the emergency doctor. Aunt Wu, I have Zuko on the phone! Say hello!”

</p><p>There's a rustling sound and more indistinct chatter as the phone changes hands. “Miss Wu?”

</p><p>“Please, call me Aunt, dear, I've asked you a hundred times.”

</p><p>She has also asked Zuko for his exact time of birth a hundred times, but he's too confused and wary to do either. “What happened?”

</p><p>“He was running around in that little garden he's been working on-- you know, in the courtyard?”

</p><p>Zuko nods in response, before remembering that this is a phone call. “Yeah.”

</p><p>“And I've been telling the landlord for months he's got to do something about those gophers, spray or something. They have people who do that kind of thing. They destroyed the sunflowers he planted--”

</p><p>Zuko has always struggled to follow this kind of meandering small talk, and it doesn't get better when he's panicking. “Wait, what about the gophers?”

</p><p>“Oh, that. He stepped in one of their holes and he fell down. I took him to the hospital. He broke his ankle, but the doctors said it wasn't a bad break. He'll need to stay off it for a few weeks, but that's all.”

</p><p>Zuko grabs for his bag and stands up. The competing waves of relief and guilt threaten to knock him over, and he has to take a second to breathe deep, in and out, like a person. “What hospital? I'll be there soon, I just...”

</p><p>“Oh, don't bother with all that. They just discharged him, we'll be home soon. My ex-wife is coming by to give us a ride. He just wanted to let you know.” In the background, he can hear his uncle's voice. “<i>I know you worry, nephew!”</i>

</p><p>“Then I’ll... I’ll meet you there, at his place. I can... bring food? Yeah, I'll bring food.”

</p><p>“That would be wonderful. I'm sure he's not up to cooking at the moment.” 

</p><p>“Okay. And Miss... Aunt Wu?” The words feel as awkward and uncomfortable in his mouth as he imagined they would be, but that's the least he can do after she came to his uncle's rescue. “Thank you. For helping him.”

</p><p>“No trouble at all, dear. Our ride is here, Iroh, look lively.”

</p>
<hr/><p>Zuko stumbles into Iroh's apartment an hour later, awkwardly juggling bags of takeout from the little noodle shop Iroh likes. It is, as always, cluttered but cozy, and now his uncle is ensconced on the couch, his ankle propped up on a generous pile of cushions. He breaks into a bright smile as soon as he sees Zuko, waving from his perch. “Nephew! You brought lunch!”

</p><p>Zuko nods and starts unloading the food, carefully preparing a bowl for his uncle and walking it over before he puts the rest of the food away in the fridge. He'd sort of... panic bought a few days worth of food, unsure of how much his uncle would be able to get around. 

</p><p>He mills around the apartment, looking for something, anything to do. 

</p><p>“I'm all right, Zuko. Sit down, you're making me dizzy.” 

</p><p>“You're-- you're dizzy? Is it from the meds? Should we call a doctor--”

</p><p>Iroh lets out an amused laugh. “No. It's from watching you wear a perfectly straight line into the carpet. Please, sit with me,” he says, patting the couch cushion beside him. 

</p><p>Zuko sighs and settles down on the floor beside his uncle's seat, his habit since a teenage growth spurt made him too gangly to fit comfortably on the sofa. Without being asked, he reaches for the remote and navigates to Uncle Iroh's favorite cooking shows. 

</p><p>His uncle strokes a hand over his hair fondly. “Thank you, Zuko.”

</p><p>“Uncle, are you sure there isn't anything else you need?”

</p><p>“Just be here with me, Zuko. That's all I ever want.” Then he pauses, humming thoughtfully to himself. “Well. Some help with my garden wouldn't hurt, while I'm laid up. But this is enough.”

</p><p>Zuko sighs softly, but he smiles. “Of course I'll help you with your garden, Uncle.”

</p>
<hr/><p>Helping with the garden is a much more involved affair than video games have led Zuko to believe. This is no matter of simply bringing out a watering can. It's an ordeal of patience, fortitude, and far more delicate work than Zuko would have expected. He even catches his uncle's barely concealed wince after Zuko finally finishes watering the white dragon bushes.

</p><p>“I thought they liked rain!”

</p><p>“Yes, but that doesn't mean they won't drown.” But Uncle Iroh smiles at him anyway, taking his hand as Zuko helps him up from his official Gardening Supervision lawn chair. “It's fine, Zuko. I'm sure it'll be fine. Actually, I have one more thing to ask you.”

</p><p>“Of course, Uncle.”

</p><p>“There was this book I saw the last time I visited the library. It was quite interesting, I'd like to read it.”

</p><p>Zuko nods, pulling out his phone to make a note. “What was it called?”

</p><p>His uncle frowns thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he considers the question. “You know, nephew, I don't quite remember. But it was about someone solving a mystery, and the cover was purple.”

</p><p>Zuko dutifully makes the note and takes the library card his uncle presses into his hand. How many books can there be with that description?

</p>
<hr/><p>Thirty-seven, as it happens. 

</p><p>“Fuck's sake,” Zuko mutters as he pulls the thirty-eighth possibility off the shelf, turning it over to consider the back, as if it'll have a cover blurb helpfully declaring “<i>much beloved by uncles the world over!</i>”

</p><p>“Need some help?”

</p><p>Zuko turns and sees a man about his own age, dark hair pulled back in a wolf-tail and cut short along the sides. The name tag on his soft blue and gray sweater reads <i>Sokka -- Librarian</i>. His first instinct is to shake his head and go back to his fruitless search. But his arms are sore from awkwardly juggling the four most likely possibilities in his arms, and he really just wants to finish this errand quickly so he can go home. 

</p><p>“Uh, yeah, actually. That would be great.”

</p><p>“Awesome! How can I help you out today?”

</p><p>“I'm looking for a book. For my uncle. He said he found it here, but he didn't remember the title.”

</p><p>“What about the author?” Zuko sheepishly shakes his head-- he hadn't even thought to ask. “What about the plot?” Another embarrassed shrug. “Any other information?”

</p><p>“... it was a mystery, I think? And he said the cover was purple.”

</p><p>Zuko expects barely concealed annoyance and then a “<i>sorry, I can't help you</i>.” Instead, Sokka grins, and it lights up his bright blue eyes in a way that knocks Zuko off balance for a moment. “Awesome. I love puzzles. C’mere. Let's see if we can't find your uncle his book!” 

</p><p>He leads Zuko out of the stack he's been haunting and over to a reference desk set up in the library’s atrium, under a massive wire sculpture of Wan Shi Tong dangling from the intricate ironwork of the glass ceiling, its wings outstretched and slowly rotating. Zuko catches himself staring up at it warily, even as he takes a seat in front of the desk. Sokka glances up and laughs. “I know, right? I hate that thing. Always makes me feel like there’s a massive buzzard wasp about to get me.” He taps quickly at the keyboard, and it hums to life. “Okay, so... mystery, purple cover, right?”

</p><p>“Wait, you can search by that? Like, book covers?”

</p><p>“I wish. It would make life way easier. You have no idea how many people come in like ‘uh, the cover was yellow’ or ‘there was a guy on it, he had a sword.’ I'm just keeping track of what we already know. So... what does your uncle like to read already?”

</p><p>Zuko bites his lip, wracking his brain for the last thing he saw his uncle read that wasn't related to cooking or gardening. “Uh... he likes the <i>Kyoshi Island Inspector</i> series?” He definitely can picture all those well loved paperbacks lined up on his uncle's shelf, or tucked into his bag for a day at the beach at Ember Island, at least.

</p><p>Sokka taps at the keyboard again, nodding thoughtfully. “My sister loves those. You know there's a new one out?”

</p><p>Zuko blinks. Could it... really be that easy? “Is there?”

</p><p>“Yeah. <i>Dinner with the Unagi</i>. Katara said it was really good, she read it in like, a day. It's not purple, but we can definitely put it on the list. Anything else?” 

</p><p>“Um. He likes to watch a lot of Earth Kingdom historic dramas? Like <i>House of the Moonflower, Saga of the Two Lovers,</i> stuff like that. That probably doesn't help.”

</p><p>“It helps a ton, actually, don't sell yourself short. So he's probably looking for something more historical, rather than like... super dark and gritty?” 

</p><p>Zuko nods again, and Sokka goes to the little pile of books Zuko had set aside on the desk. “So we can probably take <i>Arc of Descent</i> off the pile,” he says, shifting it over to the cart beside him. <i>Ba Sing Se Chronicles</i> is a pretty good bet... so’s <i>Sign of the Flying Lemur.</i> I have a couple of ideas too. I'll be right back, okay?” 

</p><p>Before he can answer, Sokka has vanished into the stacks, leaving Zuko under the watchful and wholly unnerving eye of the sculpture. By the time that Sokka returns, two other books under his arm, Zuko can't help blurting out, “Are the eyes supposed to follow you?”

</p><p>“Probably. I'm glad you agree, I've been telling people for years that that thing is a menace. Okay, so I snagged you the new <i>Kyoshi Island Inspector</i>, and this other one-- I haven't read it, but I have it on good authority that it's awesome. Some guys exploring the Si Wong desert discover a bunch of artifacts missing, and they have to solve it to get home.”

</p><p>“That sounds perfect,” Zuko says, looking down at the viciously graceful unagi arcing out of the water on the cover of the first book, teeth bared. He isn't really sure about that, but Sokka seems so excited, Zuko can't help but feel hopeful. 

</p>
<hr/><p>Uncle <i>loves</i> the books. He finishes all four in a matter of days, and he sends Zuko back for more. 

</p><p>It should be shocking, how quickly it gets woven into the rest of his days. Work, the library, Uncle Iroh's-- an easy rhythm, one he finds comforting.

</p><p>Just the sight of the great wooden door, brightly painted with a map of Republic City, makes him smile, even if he's just walking by. It reminds him of the library his mother would take him and his sister to when they were still small. They would ride the train all the way across Caldera City to curl up on a colorful rug and read together while Azula played. 

</p><p>It isn't like that at all, of course, but the Republic City Library has the same sort of warmth, even as fall gives way to winter. 

</p><p> And seeing Sokka is... it's just nice, that's all. It's nice.

</p><p><i>Sokka probably smiles at everyone like that</i>, he scolds himself sharply, when he feels the red flush begin creeping up his neck and onto his ears and his cheeks. “Hey! Got something your Uncle might like!”

</p><p>Zuko pauses on his way to the mystery section. “Oh?”

</p><p>Sokka grins and brandishes a gleaming new hardcover book. “So last time you were in, you said your uncle was into gardening... and he loves mysteries... so I found this gem.”

</p><p>Zuko takes it to examine the cover-- an elaborately jeweled hand, clutching a bunch of delicate white blossoms (flecked with a few droplets of blood for dramatic effect, of course.) The title is emblazoned in gold foil: <i>Some Jade Blossom For Your Tea</i>?

</p><p>“It's about a murder at the Earth Queen’s annual gardening competition, which apparently exists? And a florist has to solve it. Also, she might be psychic, so that's fun.”

</p><p>“That sounds great. I'm sure my uncle will like it,” Zuko murmurs. As he glances away, rubbing at his neck, he catches sight of the cart beside Sokka, piled high with books. Picture books, he realizes after a moment. “What's that?” 

</p><p>Sokka sighs and brandishes one: <i>Counting in the Foggy Swamp.</i> “Just going through our picture books. Pulling the ones that checked out a lot, the ones that didn't really get checked out, ones that have peanut butter stains nobody caught for some reason...” 

</p><p>Sokka gestures toward the second pile, and Zuko doesn't mean to, but his voice sort of fades out as he recognizes the book on top of the pile.

</p><p><i>The Lost Turtleduck.</i> He remembers curling up in his mother's lap for hours, taking turns reading the pages he knew by heart before he could even really read. 

</p><p>When she was gone, he read it until it fell apart. 

</p><p>He starts to reach out for it before he stops himself, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Can I look at that one? Sorry, I just-- I used to read that one when I was a kid.”

</p><p>“Sure thing. And you have nothing to be sorry for, man,” Sokka says as he hands the book over. 

</p><p>Zuko opens it, and he can't hold back a smile at the familiar, graceful pen and ink drawing of the turtleduck, the worlds rendered in gentle gray. He even traces along the edges of the drawing, as if there will really be soft feathers there instead of smooth paper. 

</p><p>“So what's that one about? I don't know it.”

</p><p>“There's a turtleduck, and she gets separated from the rest of her flock. So she has to find her way back, and she makes friends to help her, and when she gets back home, they become part of her flock too.”

</p><p>When he looks up from the page where the toucan puffin and the turtleduck are huddled together against the storm, Sokka is smiling at him, and just like that, Zuko can feel the redness creeping into his cheeks again. “It's cheesy, but I really liked it.”

</p><p>“It's not cheesy! It's cute! You know we have a turtleduck who lives over in the park next door?”

</p><p>“Really?” 

</p><p>“Yeah! The kids named her Mochi. She's great, she likes to come shake people down for snacks, but in a cute way. I mean, it's almost winter, so she probably migrated or something...”

</p><p>“They don't migrate. They burrow underground and hibernate.” 

</p><p>“Oh, really? That's cool, I didn't know that. Do you wanna check that out?”

</p><p>Zuko isn't sure he's ever wanted anything so much. He reflexively reaches for Iroh’s card in his pocket, before considering that his uncle <i>probably</i> doesn't want kids' books checked out on his card. “I only have my uncle's card.” 

</p><p>“Oh, that's okay, I can look yours up.”

</p><p>“I don't have one.” Which... that has to be weird, right? Spending this much time just lurking in the library and not even having your own card--

</p><p>Sokka, for his part, looks unfazed. “That's okay. I can get you set up with one, it takes like, ten seconds.”

</p><p>Once Zuko has signed the back of the card, he hands the marker back off to Sokka, and he's both charmed and alarmed to see the mischievous smile playing on his lips. “What?”

</p><p>“There's one more thing-- we gotta commemorate your first library card!” he says, rummaging under the desk for something. He emerges with a large sign, shaped like an ordinary library card, complete with the (allegedly) cute, cartoony drawing of Wan Shi Tong holding a book. This one has a speech bubble announcing “I Got My First Library Card!”

</p><p>Sokka poses him up against the rainbow mural of the alphabet in the children's area, and Zuko looks over at him, eyebrow arched up skeptically. “You really do this for everyone who gets new cards? Including adults?”

</p><p>Sokka appears to be barely holding back laughter, but he nods. “Especially the grown-ups, yeah. Here, pass me your phone.”

</p><p>“Why?”

</p><p>“To take the picture, duh. You can send it to your uncle, I'm sure he'll be proud of you!” 

</p><p>Zuko is still laughing when the flash goes off-- “sorry, my bad,” Sokka says, running a hand back through his hair. “You wanna try another?”

</p><p>“No, that's okay. I'm not... I don't look good in pictures.”

</p><p>Sokka gives him an odd look as he hands back his phone, and Zuko winces internally, trying to figure out which way he messed up this conversation. But he smiles and takes back the sign. “Let's get your books checked out, okay?”

</p><p>Zuko does send Uncle Iroh the picture. When he comes back to celebrate the removal of his uncle's cast, it's printed out and hung on the refrigerator, in pride of place. 

</p>
<hr/><p>The busy season has begun at Bei Fong, and it opens with another interminable meeting. As Lao Bei Fong drones on in another conference call, Zuko has his chin resting on one hand as he sketches idly with the other. He’s been a doodler his whole life. His notepads are always adorned with abstract swirls and scribbles all along the margins, squeezed into their own little domain. 

</p><p>Lately, they've changed. He finds himself trying to draw his own version of the turtleduck, surfing along those turbulent swirls. 

</p><p>It's a nice break from the rest of the workday. 

</p><p>He used to draw when he was a kid. He even had a shelf full of sketchbooks he'd filled up cover to cover. He was never that good, but it felt good, to try and shape his own little worlds on the page. 

</p><p>Zuko sighs and turns the page in his notepad to start making a plan to tackle his workload. He really hasn't done himself any favors by taking off early all those times to help his uncle out. Normally, he's much more prepared than this. 

</p><p>This will require some weekend time to catch up. 

</p><p>That's why he packs up his laptop and his notepad to go to the Republic City Library, bright and early on his day off. He claims one of the tables in the atrium for himself and sets up shop. For the first couple of hours, he actually manages to be productive. He even manages to hold onto that lead when Sokka shows up and waves to him. 

</p><p>Then the children start to trickle in. Some come with parents or grandparents, others on their own. Sokka is always, <i>always</i>, adorable with them, whether he's helping a mother find board books for her toddler or walk a middle schooler through confusing directions on a history project.

</p><p>Or much odder situations, as it happens. 

</p><p>“Bolin, buddy, we've talked about this.”

</p><p>The little boy with the messy black hair and bright green eyes pouts, but keeps playing with the pot of sticky, neon purple... stuff. Sokka inches closer on the floor. “What's the rule about slime in the library, buddy?”

</p><p>“It’s not slime, it's <i>goo</i>!”

</p><p>“Bolin.”

</p><p>The boy sighs and gives the goo a final, resigned poke. “No slime or slime adjacent substances in the library.”

</p><p>“Hey, good job remembering the word ‘adjacent,’ buddy, I'm impressed. So let's put the goo back in its container, and then we can do some building while Mako finishes his homework, okay?”

</p><p>Bolin chews on his lower lip, as if he's carefully considering the question. “Yeah. Can we build another city?” 

</p><p>“Sure thing! Get your goo put away and I'll grab the blocks.”

</p><p>As Sokka runs past again, this time carrying a large crate that rattles merrily with each step, he grins and winks at Zuko. 

</p><p>Zuko does not fall out of his chair, but it is a very near thing. 

</p><p>Does Sokka do that for everyone? 

</p><p> He can't <i>possibly</i> do that for everyone? 

</p><p>The rest of his work is a lost cause after that. He keeps the spreadsheets open, but he keeps being drawn to Sokka on the floor with Bolin, both of them surrounded by the colorful chaos of little plastic bricks. They’re happily narrating the story of their city and its people, and Zuko can't help but be charmed. 

</p><p>Another boy, this one a little older, wanders over, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Bolin beams at him, holding up a well worn fire ferret plush toy. “Mako! Are you gonna build with us? I saved you all the red bricks--”

</p><p>“We have to get ready to leave soon, Bo. Mom's gonna pick us up after her shift, remember?”

</p><p>“But Mako...” 

“Hey, you gotta listen to your big brother, Bolin. You got all your stuff, right? Comics, homework, fire ferret, goo?”

</p><p>“Yeah, we got it. Put your coat on, Bo, let's go.”

</p><p>Sokka gives each of the boys a first bump before they head out. It's getting dark, and it won't be too long until the library closes. Zuko finally gives up the ghost and packs up his laptop. Sokka is still on the floor, carefully dismantling the city and corralling the bricks into their crate. 

</p><p>“I didn't know slime was such a big problem at the library.” 

</p><p>Sokka scoffs, dropping another handful of bricks into the crate. “Oh my god, dude, you have no idea. Last summer was the freaking slime apocalypse. I think I had to clean glitter residue off a different surface every day. It was like the last day of Pride every single day for two months.”

</p><p>Zuko hides a laugh behind his hand. “I can't even imagine.”

</p><p>“Yeah, zero out of ten, do not recommend. I mean, it was a great way to start teaching some basic chemistry, but the clean up was a nightmare. So, how's the next great novel of the Republic coming?” 

</p><p>“What?”

</p><p>“Your writing. You looked pretty busy, you know?”

</p><p>“I mean, I was busy, but I was just... working on my year end reports for work. It's pretty boring. I'm a terrible writer.” He scraped through any writing projects in school with Mai’s generous help, and even that led to more than a few close calls.

</p><p>“I don't believe that,” Sokka says simply. “So what do you do?”

</p><p>“I work at Bei Fong. It's... pretty boring, mostly. I mean, not now, since it's pretty busy, but it's not, you know, like what you do.”

</p><p>“Yeah, I imagine it involves a lot less crawling around on the floor,” Sokka says. He finally gathers the last few bricks and dumps them into the crate. He props it on his hip after he gets to his feet. “Wouldn't trade it for the world, though.”

</p><p>“You're really good with them.”

</p><p>Just then, the PA crackles overhead. “<i>The library will be closing in five minutes. Please save your work, make any final selections, and prepare to exit the building.</i>”

</p><p>Zuko clears his throat awkwardly. “I should go.”

</p><p>“Yeah, it's about that time. It's always good seeing you!”

</p><p>“You too,” Zuko murmurs, ducking away quickly, before Sokka can see how his cheeks are flushed.

</p>
<hr/><p>Saturdays at the library help hold Zuko together in the darkest, coldest part of the winter. There's something so warm about this place, even when the only sunlight filtering through the glass of the atrium is that cold, weak winter light. 

</p><p>He's at Uncle Iroh’s for what has become their weekly dinner, and his uncle dispatches him up to his former bedroom to get one of the boxes stored in the closet up there. It's the same as it has been since Zuko graduated college, right up to the little shelf of sketchbooks on the headboard of his bed. He pauses for a moment, tracing a fingertip along the row of books. He pulls the last one off the shelf, smiling and wincing in equal measure as he flips past his old work-- a still life of a cup of tea, little caricatures of Mai and Ty Lee, Azula as a dragon, a sketch of his uncle asleep on the couch. 

</p><p>The last dozen pages are blank. 

</p><p>“Zuko? Did you find it?”

</p><p>“Just a second, Uncle,” he calls back, letting the sketchbook fall closed. He goes to put it back on the shelf, but something stops him. Maybe it's the empty space on all those pages, calling to him, far more inviting than the margins of some meeting notes. Maybe it's just the odd charm of the artist he tried to be.

</p><p>Either way, he tucks the sketchbook under his arm before going to the closet and pulling down the box his uncle requested. 

</p>
<hr/><p>The busy season ebbs away like the tide, but Zuko keeps coming back on his day off. He brings that sketchbook and fills up the last few pages with his attempts to remember what it's like to really draw. 

</p><p>The results are imperfect, but it flows. 

</p><p>He sketches out the Wan Shi Tong sculpture where it hovers over Sokka at the reference desk. He isn't great with faces, but he'd like to think he captures the exaggeratedly suspicious glare Sokka directs towards the sculpture every so often, usually when he thinks Zuko is watching. 

</p><p>He gets so caught up in trying to perfect the exact attitude of Sokka's wolf-tail that he doesn't hear the book cart roll up alongside his usual table. “I didn't know you could draw!” 

</p><p>Zuko's shoulders go up around his ears, and he lets out an awkward laugh. “Not really. I try to, but I'm pretty rusty.”

</p><p>“Can I see?” Sokka asks. Zuko hesitates, then moves his hand so the other man can see more than part of the Wan Shi Tong sculpture’s ominous wing. Sokka leans over onto the book cart, and this close, Zuko can smell what must be his cologne-- something cedar wood smoky, cut with something just a little sweet. Zuko has to remember how to breathe. In and out, one at a time, like humans do. 

</p><p>Sokka lets out a delighted laugh. “Dude! This is awesome! Can I take a picture,” he asks, already sliding his phone out of his pocket. 

</p><p>“Uh. Sure,” Zuko says, leaning away so he's out of the shot. He feels caught between elation that Sokka liked it and embarrassment that Sokka saw it. 

</p><p>“I've always wanted to draw. I mean, I tried, but I'm the worst at it. My sister still makes fun of me for the time I tried to draw a sky bison. I think it's my contact picture in her phone.” Sokka smiles ruefully, glancing down at Zuko’s sketchbook again. “You made me look so <i>cute</i>, what the <i>hell</i>.”

</p><p>“But you are,” Zuko blurts out. He freezes the second he says it, hand up by his mouth like he can snatch the words back. Sokka is staring at him, a confused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Is that... is Sokka blushing?

</p><p>“I have to go,” Zuko mumbles, practically tripping over his own feet as he scrambles to shove all his things into his messenger bag and flee the library.

</p><p>He can <i>never</i> go back, he tells himself firmly on the train home.

</p>
<hr/><p>Zuko’s resolve lasts a week and a half. It's mostly that Uncle's library books are due, and despite the fact that Uncle was at some point perfectly capable of bringing home forty-five library books, he enlists Zuko to help him carry the enormous totes two blocks back to the library. 

</p><p>It's the first truly sunny day of spring, with the air not exactly warm, but certainly not punishingly frigid. That doesn't stop Zuko from pulling his hood up and slouching his shoulders as if he's walking into a bitter mountain blizzard.

</p><p>Uncle looks at him with amusement as he pulls the library door open. 

</p><p>“What?”

</p><p>“Nothing, nothing, I just thought perhaps we had finished with this in your middle school years.” 

</p><p>“Uncle,” Zuko hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

</p><p>“Hey, you're back! How's it going, Iroh?”

</p><p>“It's wonderful, thank you, Sokka. How is your sister?”

</p><p>“Katara’s great, she'll be finishing her residency in Omashu in the next couple months and then I think she's officially a doctor?”

</p><p>“How wonderful! I'm so glad to hear. Have you met my nephew, Zuko?”

</p><p>Zuko scowls for just a moment before he slowly lowers the hood and waves awkwardly at Sokka. “...hi.”

</p><p>Sokka beams at him, as if Zuko hadn't done something hideously embarrassing the last time he was in. “Oh, I know Zuko! You do any more drawing?”

</p><p>“Uh, a little...”

</p><p>“Nephew, you're drawing again?” His uncle sounds absolutely delighted, and Zuko wants to sink through the floor. 

</p><p>“Yeah, he's great! Did you show him?”

</p><p>“They're just doodles,” Zuko mumbles. 

</p><p>“I always thought my nephew showed great artistic promise,” Iroh says, patting Zuko's elbow. He empties the last of the totes into the book drop and then wanders off towards the mystery section. “I won't be long, Zuko,” he says, blithely lying in the way that only Iroh can. 

</p><p>Sokka shakes his head as the two of them watch Iroh go. “That guy's great. I can't believe I didn't make the connection earlier.”

</p><p>Zuko shrugs and awkwardly returns Sokka's smile. Maybe they're just pretending it didn't happen. That seems like a solid plan. Zuko can go with that, even it makes something ache deep inside his chest. 

</p><p>“Hey, remember Mochi?”

</p><p>Zuko has to think for a moment, brow furrowing. “The... turtleduck?”

</p><p>“Yeah! She's back! Or out of hibernation, I guess. And she has a <i>friend</i>,” Sokka says, his voice taking on a little singsong tone. “C'mon, we can actually see them from this window over here.”

</p><p>Zuko follows Sokka over to the large glass window along the building’s southern wall. The trees and shrubs of the park next door are still mostly bare, but the pond has thawed, making it easy to see the little turtleduck darting around on the surface of the pond, diving and splashing as she roots around for food under the surface. 

</p><p>Zuko can't hold back a smile as he watches the turtleduck swim. 

</p><p>“Right? She's adorable. And if you look over there,” Sokka says, skimming a finger just along the grass to direct Zuko's gaze to the willow tree beside the pond. “That's her mate.”

</p><p>At the base of the tree, there's a little nest made of smooth stones, sticks, and dried grass. Another turtleduck is sitting inside, carefully arranging the grass with its bill. “They're nesting,” Zuko says softly.

</p><p>“Yes! I actually did some research, and it turns out that nesting pairs of turtleducks work together to build the nest, and then they take turns on it. It's literally the cutest thing I've ever seen.”

</p><p>“Do they have eggs in there?”

</p><p>“I'm pretty sure, yeah. Mako and Bolin tried to go investigate yesterday, and Udon almost bit them. Wouldn't stop chasing them until they got to the library steps. Turtleducks don't usually get aggressive like that unless you get too close to their babies. Great parental instincts.”

</p><p>Zuko looks over at Sokka. “Udon?” 

</p><p>“It's what the kids named him, don't look at me.” Sokka takes his hand down from the window, brushing Zuko's hand for just a moment. “We're gonna have our very own herd of turtleducklings!”

</p><p>“Is it herd or flock?”

</p><p>Sokka narrows his eyes and shakes his finger at Zuko, but the brightness in his blue eyes belies his attempt at sternness. “Don't start with me. It's interchangeable, I looked it up.”

</p><p>Zuko smiles, biting his lip. “I should know better than to argue with a librarian, huh?”

</p><p>“That's absolutely right. If I don't know it already, I can figure it out.”

</p><p>When they walk back towards Iroh at the reference desk, their hands brush together again, and Zuko thinks of that brief moment of warmth the whole walk back to Uncle's apartment. 

</p>
<hr/><p>Uncle Iroh slides a sketchbook and a set of good drawing pencils across the table to him at their next weekly dinner. “I thought you might like these,” he says, smiling warmly at Zuko. 

</p><p>“Uncle, these are... these are too nice.”

</p><p>“Nonsense. The nice young lady at the art store told me these would be perfect. You know she had a lovely tattoo of a white dragon blossom? Very beautifully done, I was impressed!”

</p><p>Zuko fidgets with the pencils in their package for a moment before he slowly opens it. 

</p><p>“You seem happier, Zuko.” 

</p><p>“I do?”

</p><p>His uncle nods, thoughtfully sipping his tea. “Like you've found a place to bloom.” 

</p><p>Zuko doesn't understand that in the slightest, but he smiles back anyway. 

</p>
<hr/><p>He takes the new sketchbook and pencils to the library every weekend. Its pages fill up with Mochi and Udon and their little home. Sokka gifts him with stories of life at the library, and the turtleducks on the page begin to borrow from those adventures. He even laughs out loud at the sketch of Udon intently studying a copy of <i>What to Expect When You're Nesting</i> at the study tables. 

</p><p>“Zuko, I think you've got the start of a pretty solid kid’s book here.”

</p><p>Zuko smiles, but he shakes his head. “No, all I've got are pictures. The stories are all you, Sokka.” 

</p><p>“I've always been an ideas guy. We could team up! Like the guys who do those sword soap opera comics, but without all the, you know, violence and betrayal and stuff.”

</p><p>“Yeah, we probably wanna leave that out of a kids book,” Zuko says, although he's already making a mental note to draw Mochi with a sword, just to make Sokka laugh again.

</p><p>“Teamwork makes the dream work!” Sokka says, holding up a hand for a fist bump. Zuko lets their hands brush together, and he relishes the touch for far too long.

</p><p>This situation is quickly becoming untenable.

</p><p>The book, or the fantasy of it, at least, is a good distraction from his simmering crush on Sokka. At least in theory.

</p><p>But even when Sokka drops a twenty-five page outline on his usual table, assuring him that he just whipped it up the day before, Zuko only burns brighter for him. 

</p><p>He doesn't know what he's doing, really, but that doesn't seem to matter anymore. His drawings bloom on the page, sprouting from Sokka's words like wildflowers in a good summer. They're imperfect, but he finds that's what he enjoys about them: building this flawed and silly world together into a beautiful place.

</p><p>He only has one page left of Sokka's story to draw. He's tried to show Sokka, but the man is insistent that he doesn't want to see until the whole story is done. “I want to <i>experience</i> it, you know? For the first time, as a whole piece.”

</p><p>“You're so weird.”

</p><p>“I learned from the best.”

</p><p>Zuko's goal today is to finish that last page. To make it not perfect, but right. 

</p><p>Sokka greets him at the door, his lunchbox in hand. “Just the man I was looking for! I have the best news.”

</p><p>“Yeah?” 

</p><p>Sokka leans in, looking up at Zuko, eyes bright and beautiful and so blue that Zuko feels like he could drown in them. “We are go for turtleducklings, my friend.”

</p><p>Before Zuko can say or do anything but smile, wide-eyed and delighted like a little kid, Sokka grabs his wrist and leads him to the park and its little pond. There's an old stone bench along the shore, on the other side of the pond from the willow and the nest. 

</p><p>Mochi and Udon are tending to a group of five turtleducklings, herding them gently toward the shallow part of the pond. The little family glides across the water, peeping and chattering to each other. Some of the more adventurous babies even start to dive before long. 

</p><p>Zuko digs for his sketchbook, flipping to the first blank page. He knows this won't really fit into the ending, but he wants to capture this moment on the page, keep it there forever.

</p><p>His pencils fly over the page, and he barely stops to think as he moves. It helps that Sokka starts scattering lettuce and fruits on the water, drawing even the wary parents closer. He doesn't pause until he's managed to get the sketchy basics of it down. When he turns his head, Sokka is looking at him, his face impossibly soft and fond. 

</p><p>“You really light up when you do that, you know?”

</p><p>“I'm just thinking.”

</p><p>Sokka laughs softly, and he rests his head on Zuko's shoulder. Zuko's heart threatens to beat its way out of his chest, and he barely manages to get the words out. “Do... do you want to see the rest of the pages?” 

</p><p>Sokka smiles and holds out his hand, but he doesn't lift his head from Zuko's shoulder. If anything, he shifts a little closer in an effort to get comfortable while he reads. 

</p><p>Zuko's heart is in his throat now, and he tries to concentrate on the turtleducks as they swim around the pond. But he keeps stealing glances over at Sokka, watching him turn the pages carefully, like they're something precious. 

</p><p>“Zuko. Dude. What the hell.” 

</p><p>Zuko’s heart sinks through the ground into the center of the earth. “I told you, I don't really know what I'm doing,” he starts to say, but Sokka shakes his head vigorously. 

</p><p>“Not what I meant. You managed to just... pull the pictures out of my head? You're not gonna be the person who makes me start believing in psychics, are you?”

</p><p>“I'm not psychic, I just read your notes!” Zuko flails his hands as he speaks, looking up at the clear blue sky. 

</p><p>Sokka reaches up to tilt Zuko's head to look at him. “Zuko, I'm gonna help you figure out how to take a compliment someday, okay?” His tone is playfully exasperated, 

</p><p>Zuko can't speak. There's no way. All the words have left his head forever. 

</p><p>“I... you know I really like you, right?”

</p><p>Zuko will never forgive his mouth’s betrayal of his brain. Never. Not in for the rest of his life. 

</p><p>Sokka sighs heavily, and Zuko braces for impact. 

</p><p>“Thank fuck, dude. I thought I was gonna have to do this whole elaborate thing where I dropped hints in the books, and then maybe hired a skywriter--”

</p><p>“You weren't going to <i>tell</i> me?” Zuko sputters.

</p><p>“Hey, hiring a skywriter is <i>technically</i> telling you!”

</p><p>Zuko covers his face with one hand, even though he's smiling. Sokka slides his hand into the other, tangling their fingers together and squeezing gently. “Can I kiss you? Because I've wanted to kiss you forever.” 

</p><p>Zuko turns his head and peeks over at Sokka through his fingers. He's looking up at Zuko with a sweet, hopeful smile, even biting his lower lip a little. Zuko lowers his hand and nods.

</p><p>Sokka rests a hand on Zuko's cheek and pulls him into a long, gentle kiss. Zuko closes his eyes and lets himself linger in this moment, wrapped up in the warmth of the spring sunlight and the blooming flowers and <i>Sokka.</i>

</p><p>When Sokka pulls away, still resting a hand at the back of his neck and stroking through his long black hair, Zuko has to remind himself how to breathe. 

</p><p>“Hey, since I fed most of my lunch to the turtleducks... do you wanna grab something? We could call it a date.”

</p><p>“That sounds perfect.” 

</p><p>“Great, because I've got some ideas for book two.”

</p><p>“Book two?”

</p><p>“What, you thought the adventures of Mochi and Udon could be contained in a single book?”

</p><p>Zuko smiles and hopes the adventures never end.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i will never stop projecting my immense fear of Wan Shi Tong onto every character i write, thank you for asking</p></blockquote></div></div>
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